After well over a year and a half of working through the 1997 portion of my hip-hop vinyl and CD collection, an end is in sight. The next six reviews will be recent ‘97 additions to my collection. Then I can move forward. Or backward forward?

Murs is a Los Angeles-based rapper who came up in the mid-nineties on the indie underground rap scene as part of the LA-based collective, Living Legends. I first became familiar with his name for his collaborative work with Slug from Atmosphere (hometown talent), as the duo has released multiple projects together (four to be exact) under the group name Felt. I’m also familiar with a few of the records he’s collaborated with 9th Wonder on (he and 9th have a handful of joint albums). But years before he started working with Slug or 9th Wonder, he was making solo projects, including his debut LP, F’Real.

F’Real was released on the independent label, Veritech Records, in March of 1997. Most of the production was handled by W. Taylor, better known to the music world as Eclipse 427. He would also get some production help from a few of his crew members and a few other names I had never heard of before reading the liner notes in the extremely scaled-down CD insert. I don’t have verified data to back it, but I’m certain that F’Real didn’t sell enough copies to be certified wood, respectfully.

I found a used CD copy of F’Real just a few months ago at one of my spots. It’s a rare find, and since I’ve been unintentionally collecting Murs’ catalog over the past few years and the five-dollar price tag seemed more than fair, I bought it, and here we are today. This is another first-time listen for me.

I found a used CD copy of F’Real just a few months ago at one of my spots. It’s a rare find, and since I’ve been unintentionally collecting Murs’ catalog over the past few years and the five-dollar price tag seemed more than fair, I bought it, and here we are today. This is another first-time listen for me. Let’s get into it.

2 Reasons – After a bizarre exchange during the intro, the first emcee you hear on F’Real is Murs’ Living Legends bredrin, Aesop (who sadly passed away last August at the age of 51), who gets off the song’s first verse. Murs takes care of the second and third verses, dissing Chino XL (RIP) on one (“hella wack metaphors sounding like Chino XL”) and his own crew on the other (“Not sayin’ I hate every wack emcee, see some of my best friends is wack”). Murs and Aesop’s vocal tones and deliveries sound very similar, but based on this track, Murs sounds like the stronger lyricist. Eclipse 427’s instrumental is minimally cool, but the low-quality mix makes it difficult to fully appreciate.

8th Samurai – The ominous chant and the sluggish drums of doom definitely set the mood for a sensei preparing for battle to avenge his brother’s death. Murs spits one verse that continues to highlight his lyrical ability, displays his unorthodox rhyme pattern, and exposes his struggle to rap on beat (but with a beat this slow, you can’t really blame him for being unable to find a rhythm). The poor mixing issue persists.

4 The Record – The static gets super thick on this track, but the endorphin-releasing bells in the loop put me in a zen-like state. Meanwhile, Murs sounds angry and aggravated, spewing venom at wack muthafuckas, lackluster blockbuster B-Boys, bitch-ass record haters, and Sway and Tech even catch a jab for allegedly not playing his music on The Wake Up Show due to industry politics (see verse three). He also gets off some pretty hi-larious punchlines: “Watch your whole crew collapse, like households that are introduced to crack,” and “Fuck with me, take a bite out of “Self Destruction” like “We’re All In The Same Gang.” This track is one good mix away from being a fire record.

BasikMurs – Murs and his buddy, Basik, each kick authentic freestyles (aka “off the top of the dome” rhymes), and both deliver acceptable bars. I enjoyed the calm melodic groove more than the rapping, though.

Interview With The Dominant – Murs interviews his buddy Kirby Dominant, who claims to be a porn star and a rapper. It’s more of a shit-talkin’ session than an actual interview, and the audio quality reaches new lows with this track.

Dominant Freestyle – Kirby Dominant and Murs exchange suffice freestyles over a forgettable backdrop.

M-3 (Anger) – Murs spits solid bars, but they get lost in his sloppy delivery and the dull as plastic knives instrumental.

Say Anything – Murs invites a few more of his Living Legends crew members to join him on this track: Bicasso (who just talks during the beginning of the record), The Grouch (the track’s producer), Luckyiam, and Arata (who spits a verse in Japanese and shares a hoarse horn solo) accompany our host for this six-minute-plus, mid at best, cipher adventure. The instrumental was mildly interesting, but the lighthearted flute break that comes in during the last thirty seconds of the record was soothingly enjoyable.

The Saint – For the first time on F’Real, Murs abandons the battle/freestyle theme and tries his hand (and pen) at a storytelling rap. The tale involves murder, heist, secret agents, and international espionage. It may sound interesting on paper, but the tale gets too convoluted, and Murs’ execution of the content doesn’t help matters. The cheesy Casio keyboard-quality production (credited to Tone) only makes the track harder to digest.

Morocco Mike – This one serves as a quick Murs bio clip. He recounts his struggle to finish high school (graduating with a 0.545 GPA is crazy!), getting kicked out of his mom’s crib, getting into a few riffs with the po-po and a dude he claims to have beat in a past battle and now he wants to kill Murs, which ultimately leads to our host moving from L.A. to The Bay by the end of the song. Once again, the instrumental is lackluster, and Murs’ testimony is about as interesting as watching paint dry.

NineFive – Murs discusses the importance of pursuing passions and purpose, and the dangers of settling and compromise. His well-thought-out bars are filled with gems, and the creamy lo-fi melodic instrumental was delectable.

The Maguire Song – Another storytelling rap. This time Murs raps about an aspiring rapper named Mike who, after grinding independently for years, finally gets signed to a major label, only to find out that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. So, he decides to cut it. This was much more entertaining than “The Saint” and “Morocco Mike.”

Live My Life – During the first two verses, Murs covers some of the same territory he treaded on “Morocco Mike,” while the third verse finds our host living and enjoying his life, current day. None of the content on this song interested me in the slightest, while the dark “Colors” like chords (shoutout to Ice-T) and the Zapp vocal sample set trip like Bloods & Crips.

Nites Like This – Over a playfully bouncy backdrop, Murs dedicates this one to all those nights when things don’t go the way you want them to. He puts a comical twist on the subject and leaves you with a word of optimism: “Remember, it could always be worse when you think it’s all bad.” But shame on Murs for having the nerve to criticize the soundman at his show for poor sound quality.

The Extras – Murs kicks this off by letting the listener know “This is the shit that you didn’t think you was gon’ get,” hence the song title. He’s joined by Big Texas and Evanessence, as they all deliver decent performances over a pretty solid Eye-3-produced instrumental.

Ease Back – Murs spews two sloppy verses over a pleasantly airy vibrating instrumental that he gives chase to but never seems to keep pace with.

The Sermon – F’Real ends with Murs sharing a few not-so-profound words about the definition of hip-hop music and seemingly defending Puffy’s “shiny suit” era in the process.

In the mid-nineties, mainstream hip-hop made a huge shift as some of the genre’s most prominent artists found commercial success spewing expensive designer bars and drug dealer/mafioso raps, ushering in the “shiny suit” era. But with all shifts, some go against the status quo; such was the case during the “shiny suit” era. Those who chose to uphold the organic tenets of emceeing and avoid the worship of materialism and excess (“material and excess” that most of those who rapped about didn’t even have) were labeled backpack rappers. On F’Real, Murs sounds like the quintessential backpack rapper.

On his debut project, Murs gets honest and vulnerable as he shares the intimate details of his life (from his mom kicking him out of her house to being a broke rapper), his jaded view of the music industry, and brashly calls out people he doesn’t fuck with. He’s a cerebral lyricist with range, able to hit you with a witty punchline, come right back with conscious content or a storyline, or do a little shit-talking. But with his focus mainly on the lyrics, the other attributes that come with being a dope emcee, like having a polished delivery and flow, suffer.

The instrumentals on F’Real range from dope (“8th Samurai,” “4 The Record,” and “NineFive”) to underwhelming (“M-3 (Anger),” “The Saint,” and “Morocco Mike”), and everything in between. But more troublesome than the uneven production and Murs’ disheveled delivery is the album’s shoddy mixing. The background static throughout F’Real is thicker than current-day Nelly Furtado, the mic and music levels are completely out of whack, and all the random distortion and moments of apparent tape-reel damage make the album feel like a bunch of lo-fi, underdeveloped demos posing as a proper release.

On “M-3 (Anger),” Murs raps, “If my style is too raw to be felt, then fuck it, it’s just the hand that I’m dealt.” Ironically, that double entendre is an unintended triple entendre that describes Murs and his debut full-length.

-Deedub
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